Sooner or Later
by Lykosdracos
Summary: Sequel to 'Never Again' Sable and Sands are back to battle against the renegade CIA agent Dawes. Will Sands get a second chance at life? Will Sable survive? R&R. THANKS!
1. Blood laced tequilla

Sooner or Later

Authors Note: This is the sequel to 'Never Again' I couldn't let those characters go, and aside from killing Sable in the other fic... that was the only chance I had at actually ENDING it. Lol. As it is, a short summary and then the real story will start.  
  
So much had happened in the last few days, Sands leaned his head back again the brown upholstery and closed his eyes. After the phone-call telling him Sable, his lover, partner, and the only person he truly gave a damn about was gone unless he was willing to barter, things had all gone down-hill.  
  
His boss, and the head of the CIA, Arnoldo had assured him that everything possible would be done to get her back. The entire agency was in an uproar, Dawes had betrayed them all and taken them unawares.  
  
The shot glass Sands held in his hand shattered sending blood laced tequila running through his fingers.  
  
"Shit" he muttered getting to his feet. He was in the living room of his house, alongside the radio and bookshelf crammed with books, there was a fireplace. Red-brick and cut to fit into the wall, it was the main attraction of the room.  
  
If he wanted to listen to the television, he could go to the adjoining room, this one was for unwinding after a long day.  
  
He threw the shards of glass into the iron wrought ashtray hissing in pain when a sliver cut into his palm. There was no more on the cushion of the sofa or the hardwood planks of his floor so he settled back and again closed his eyes.  
  
The blood that welled up from the stray scratches would stop soon. If not, the red would blend into the black color of his pants when he swiped at his leg unconcernedly. He was still able to hold and shoot a gun, he had sustained worse injuries.  
  
Perfect example, the two gaping holes where his eyes used to be. Souvenirs from his first, and last, trip to Mexico. He had been sent there to protect the president. Things hadnt gone exactly as planned, after meeting up with the legendary guitar gunfighter El, then the cartels, he had known that a lot more needed to be done than just protecting the president.  
  
Ajedrez, the Barillo cartels daughter, he had only realized that as he lay strapped down to their laboratory table-  
  
The phone rang three times before Sands reached for it. Dawes was on the other end, he knew it before he heard the voice. Dawes had access to all of files, or at least he did when he worked for the CIA. He would know their addresses, phone numbers, and any other snippet of personal information located in the case-files.  
  
Had Arnoldo not kept his address a complete secret, Sands had no doubt that a kidnapping wasn't all that Dawes would have planned. It was a risk going against the CIA, an even bigger risk when the one who turned was a major in control of a special branch. The only problem was that Dawes was too well trained, he could stay hidden for months before word spread of his activities.  
  
Months, years, Sable would be dead by then Dawes would have no further use for her, as much as he hated to admit it, she would be killed. How to stop a psychotically challenged man, barter for a life, and keep hold of the aces up his sleeve, when they didn't know where the fuckmook was?  
  
"Hello." Dawes replied twirling a screwdriver unconsciously in his right hand.  
  
Sable lay in a corner of the room conserving her energy for the next round. She had been there four days already, but time had passed so slowly it seemed like four years. The black, blue, purple, and yellowing bruises attested to that feeling.  
  
The room held nothing but white walls and a small space in the back that served as a bathroom. The sink ran brown water, same as the toilet, which discouraged drinking and any chance at extra sustenance. There were no windows or furniture of any kind. Dawes knew better than to let a potential weapon, not matter how inconsequential, fall into her grasp.  
  
He relished the sight of small red drops on the floor and on one side of the room. Sable might be considered one of the best agents, but blood still flowed crimson through her veins. He'd prove that to himself another couple of times this day, if he was in the mood.  
  
She had never made a sound, not when he sprained her rib, or nearly fractured her arm. Only the small winces when she moved in the wrong direction proved that she felt any pain at all.  
  
Dawes hadnt let her get any sleep, maybe a grand total of five hours at most, and that was more give than take. It took a lot of determination not to drift off where she lay. She knew that if she did, Dawes would kick her awake and it was difficult enough to move on her own.  
  
"Here." Dawes threw the cell-phone at her expecting her not to catch it. Just the sight of her made his stomach churn. She was so damn arrogant it made his teeth clench, no better than a whore yet she had Arnoldo and everyone associated with them hanging on to her every spoken syllable.  
  
Sable caught it, her brown eyes narrowed in anger and rage. She could hardly catch her breath due to the pain in her chest, but she'd be damned before letting him know that.  
  
"Has that son-of-a-bitch hurt you?" she heard Sands' voice growl into the phone. The hatred between the two men had always been a tangible thing, Arnoldo had gone above and beyond when making sure the two stayed apart.  
  
"Jeff, yeah, I'm fine. Better than expected at any rate. How're you." She trusted him knowing that everything was definitely not 'fine.' It was a word that wasn't in their vocabulary, and no one called him Jeff. Ever.  
  
"Arnoldo has everyone hunting him down. He won't win this, Sable." He fought the urge to punch the nearest wall at the hoarseness of her voice.  
  
"I know." She kept what she hoped was a sweet love-sick smile on her face. Dawes would wonder what was going on, she wasn't even sure why he had let her talk in the first place.  
  
"Has he hurt you?" Sable could imagine him holding the phone so tightly his knuckles were white.  
  
"No more than the coyote is." She replied sure Dawes wouldn't understood the reference. Taken from Looney Tunes, she knew Sands would get it straight off. He had once had a watch with that character on the face.  
  
Dawes took the phone back with a blow that Sable reflected easily, her reflexes had much improved from constant use.  
  
"Now that wasn't a very nice thing to call me." Dawes smirked, "Touch a nerve, did I?"  
  
She stayed still and quiet straining to hear what Sands was saying. He wouldn't be outright hostile because he knew that she would pay for whatever he said, but neither would he play Dawes' sick, twisted little game.  
  
"Yes, make sure you do." Dawes laughed as he hung up and severed connection. "That was five minutes." He announced pocketing the phone. Sable didn't reply, she had such a good comment to make, but staying quiet was much easier. "You owe me for'em."  
  
She watched him, tense and ready for any attack he might make, his behavior was unpredictable and often well planned.  
  
"Not going to say anything?" he taunted, "You missing him already? Its been four whole days, you haven't whored-"  
  
"Shut up." Sable snapped, she was so tired of the references Dawes made both to her and to Sands. He never stopped with the blatant accusing and outright hatred.  
  
"Arnoldo's favorite, the both of you have caused enough damage to start a war! You think you're so much better than us, don't you."  
  
"No." she replied never breaking eye-contact. "Just better than you."  
  
"Guards!" Dawes yelled and instantly four heavily-armed soldiers appeared. Sable fell into a fighting stance, there were only four of them! She took the nearest of them out with a round-house kick to the chest. The second was momentarily stunned with a blow to the head, but was saved when one plunged a hypodermic needle into Sable's right arm.  
  
Within seconds her sight blurred and her muscles grew weak. She managed to kick the legs out from the soldier who drugged her as she fell to one knee. The last thing she was the guards' head hitting the floor next to her.


	2. Operation

Chapter 2

Authors Note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Sorry I haven't been online or updated chapters... school's finally over though! Yay. Lol. Oh! And I bought the OUATIM soundtrack, it's about time right? So now it's extra motivation to write and four days until Secret Window comes out on DVD!!!

_No music was on and the television was blank and silent in the large house. The only sounds were those that came from the bedroom, but even then they were quiet whispers reserved for the time of night some call the witching hour. _

_"What do you think is next?" _

_Getting closer to the bed where a sliver of moonbeam falls across the dark blue comforter there lay two people. Sable has her head resting on his shoulder, Sands has his arms around her as if to shield her from harm. _

_"Retirement." He paused, "Or death, either should be fun, eh?" _

_"Seriously?" Sable asked initiating the 'midnight conversation,' they had one almost every night where they spoke of things that otherwise wouldn't be brought up during the day. When they were alone they were allowed to be in a relationship, when they were working it was strictly professional, well, at least a quarter of the time. _

_When they signed up for the job with the CIA they were informed of the many risks that would be taken. Trust no one, always be alert, and stay alive were Arnoldo's favorite sayings. _

_Sands had never thought of the word love before let alone experienced it, but now as he felt Sable's hand over his heartbeat he knew that's what it had to be. She was his partner, lover, and even friend, something Sands hadn't ever tried to be. Until now. _

_"I was kind of hoping that you'd actually move in here for good." Sands took the initiative and spoke the thought that had been turning around in his mind for days. "I mean you always go back and forth twice a week to get stuff. I just figured that it'd be more logical if everything was here." _

_"Of course, because you're all about the logic." Sable grinned, "You just want me here all the time to cater to your needs and to boss around when you're bored." _

_"Well there's that upside." Sands replied as if thinking it over, "I promise not to tire you out. What with the 'catering to my needs' and all." He laughed wickedly._

_"Each and every one." She kissed him, "But it works both ways." _

_"I wouldn't have assumed anything else." Sands said, a little too innocently from her point of view, that was justified when he rolled with her so that he lay braced on his elbows on top of her. "Any requests?" _

_"No, no you seem to be doing fine on your own..." _

_"I love you, Sands." She said awhile later when all was quiet and still. _

"Sands? Agent Sands?" he heard the voice come through the speaker box in the wall. "Special Agent Jeffrey Sands?"

"Leave it at agent," Sands replied before the man got to the Sheldon part of his name. It was hard enough carting a body up the walkway when he could see let alone when he couldn't. "I'll be right down, try coming up here and I guarantee loss of your foot at the ankle."

One look at the agents face had Joshua Muzatti instinctively reaching for his short-barreled pistol. He'd heard tales of the psycho renegade, but this was his first time meeting him.

Sands was in typical all-black attire with a new jacket to boot. None of this, however, concerned him. The only thing that interested Sands was getting Sable back and sending Dawes to hell. Preferably in the order.

"Ready?" he asked ushering Sands down the stairs.

Sands reacted quicker than lightning, a dangerously feral look twisting his features, "Rule one, never touch me. Do so again and I'll take the extremity and ram it down your throat."

After opening the door Josh opted just to let him rot there, who did he think he was ordering him around like that? It was clear that Arnoldo had underestimated Sands' mental state. A lot.

The car ride seemed to take double the time as neither of the men strove to break the silence. Sands could practically feel the hostility emanating from whomever it was that Arnoldo sent, but he couldn't have given a lesser damn. It didn't matter if they liked him, he was way past the point where he needed their approval.

Soon as the engine stopped Sands was out of the car and through the glass doors of the CIA. He upholstered one of his guns choosing not to wait for the elevator. Taking the stairs two at a time he made sure that anyone passing or walking in front of him could see it.

Not surprisingly he found no resistance, and stepped into Arnoldo's office barely five minutes later. "Is it possible for you to get here without terrorizing half the people on the way?"

"Saves time." Sands said curtly, "I got a call yesterday."

"We know, your line's tapped. Just for precautionary measures."

"Get any leads?"

"Unfortunately, not. The call wasn't long enough for us to distinguish exactly where it came from."

"So we have nothing, what're we going to do? Leaving her there isn't an option."

"First, I need to talk to you about our deal. With Mark."

Sands let off an incredulous sigh, "How does this take priority right now? One of your agents, might I add, is out there being tortured and killed to death. What are you worried about? A psychologist?!"

"It's not negotiable." Arnoldo knew that the mental trauma Sands was going through didn't even begin to cover that which he'd gone through a few months ago in Mexico. Stress, especially of this kind, would send any normal man to his knees. Sable, his partner and the woman he'd recently began living with was taken by someone Sands hated beyond all reason. That had to be leaving scars.

"Well _make_ it a negotiation." Sands felt as if he were in one of those machines that shook it's passenger upside down, all around, and back and forth. He couldn't get a footing and just when he did it would lurch to the side sending him into a chaotic backflip of movement.

"You agreed to sessions with Mark so he could check your mental stability, while working with us still. Thus far you've been to one. One, Sands."

"If you haven't noticed, this hasn't been the greatest couple of days, alright. There's the small matter of Sable being bartered back, with the threat of her life swinging in the balance. Then there's the fact that I can't exactly see what's going on, so I can't help. Just minor smidgens of information that might tend to put a block on a psychiatric appointment!"

Arnoldo was sure the ordeal would leave Sands in far worse straits than anything prior could compare with. This was one of the few times he'd mentioned his lack of sight, and Sheldon Sands was a man who used anything he could to his advantage.

He was walking even closer to the edge, holding on with the barrel of his gun, which he was aiming about restlessly even as they spoke. Arnoldo wasn't sure whether the agent was aware of what he was doing, a fact that troubled him more deeply than words could amount too.

"Look, I know that you think I _need_ the help, but I've been fine, on my own. You didn't have any objections concerning her or I."

"Let me ask you a question then," Arnoldo had decided to go around the topic of psychiatry and to the heart of the matter. "What's the first thing you'll do when Dawes is found."

"Will I be face to face with him?"

Arnoldo already saw the tensing of Sands' hand around the gun, and his fingers inching towards the trigger. That alone was the complete truth, nothing could have said it better.

"Yes, in the same room, he's directly in front of you."

"I'm going to send the son of a bitch six feet under, and then keep digging. He'll never see the light of day again. He won't ever get near her, or me, for's long as we live. And I plan to make that quite a long time." he visibly controlled himself and resorted to humor, "We deserve the retirement watch, don't you think?"

"I have a proposition for you, then." Arnoldo motioned for the man in a long white jacket standing outside the door to come inside.

"Going into surgery?" Sands asked tipping his head to the side as if smelling the air.

"Why?"

"Latex, medicine, and there's someone else in the room. I would have thought you had better plans than that." Sands lit a cigarette, "Assassinate me at home, on the way to the car, but in your office? You'll never get the blood-stains out."

"No, Sands, Murinfry is going to operate on your eyes."

Sands didnt know what kind of sick joke this was, but he wasnt amused. Not in the slightest. He was willing to prove just exactly how not funny this whole situation was.

"Had you not noticed? They seem to be, you know, gone." Sands took a long drag and raised an eyebrow at Murinfry. The black shades were removed and the surgeon found himself staring at where his eyes should have been.

"The optical nerves are still there, my hunch was right."

"Excuse me? Hunch? Why haven't I been privy to this information yet?"

"And the invention we were working on, I think it'll work in his case."Murinfry continued.

"Invention? My _case_, I want explanations. Now."

"That's good, very good, and it's seventy-five percent chance of full sight-recovery?" Arnoldo inquired.

The sound of a gun loading finally caught their attention, although to Arnoldo's relief it was pointed towards the ceiling rather then at one of them. Sands could take being ignored, he'd done his fair share of it himself, even killing the person if he was mad enough, but he couldn't abide being spoken of like he wasn't in the same room.

"Murinfry is going to operate on your eyes to restore partial to full sight." Arnoldo fought the urge to grin at the ferocity stamped on Sands expression. Despite everything, on painkillers, disoriented, and blind for the first time in his life,

Sands had still looked intimidating. The first time he'd come into the office Arnoldo hadn't even known there was something wrong with him until he'd realized Sable's unsubtle signal that something might not be right.

"When can he start?" Sands asked. The sooner he was able to see, the sooner he'd be able to shoot the shit out of Dawes, get Sable back, and if the operation went well he would see her, and the blood that ran from Dawes as the bullets entered his flesh.

"In about three hours."

Authors Note: Something I was talking to PirateWench about, it just stuck... all those months passed and I haven't been able to get the thought out of my mind. So, thank you PiratesWench, and see, I've used the idea in a story. Lol. He WILL be able to see again, and this idea actually works! Thanks very much!


End file.
